To Conquer
by uhhhh
Summary: Starting from when Ste hospitalises Brendan. Following the storyline but fleshing it out. Experimental.   Ste/Brendan
1. Ratboy

**To Conquer**

_**Ratboy:**_

The abused abuser is abused. Pathetic...but not for much longer. I don't think anything has ever felt so strange. You know when people go on about those outer body experiences? Like, they say 'I was all light headed, right. Almost as though I were looking in for the whole thing'. Well it weren't like that at all, it was the opposite. I can remember the disbelieving look Amy wore, the hints of pity that made me look away. All that sadness and angry frustration reflected back at me. She was disappointed because I wasn't man enough to report him.  
>Man enough...<br>My Dad always used to say that, used to think he could yell it into me, shake it into me...beat it into me. I try not to remember who I was then. The scrawny kid who couldn't read too good cause he took too many knocks to the head. Clumsy, awkward creep. The worst part was that I was always a failure. Did the wrong things, said stupid stuff, existed. I locked it all away though, dealt with the memories and set them aside. My Amy was proud see, I'd done something right for a change.

But you had to bring it all back, didn't you? Now I'm haunted. Only it's so much worse with you. Set me up with wanting looks and chaste kisses so you can knock me down in every sense. I won't be pathetic anymore. I want to watch you fall and crumble. I want you to collapse, hit the ground so hard you'll never get up. Then you'll finally be at my level, I won't just be at your feet. I'll make you hurt harder, bleed faster because you didn't want my love. So you get to watch me as your walls cave in and you slowly suffocate. Watch me walk away.

I deserve happiness right? As I clutch the bat and numbly walk up the stairs of _ChezChez _I truly don't know. All that anger I'd kept bottled up, Amy was the final straw. It had fueled me to plan it all out and kept me going all the way until the top of the metal stairs. But I had a job to do and one look at him laughing after all the shit he'd pulled. Enough was enough. I ignore the way my sweat and nerves make me grip even harder, concentrate on being silent. I'm not one for premeditated things, me. But even I have to admit this isn't total impulse. I feel like its some significant turning point, like I'm controlling fate. Like one hit will eradicate all the others and will wipe our past clean. As I take my position I realise I'm stabbing him in the back in every sense and it feels...good. Who knew the person I thought I loved could make me so hateful? But I'm not. I refuse to let you make me the same as you. I won't let myself bottle it away as you do, find comfort in a literal bottle and become slowly embittered. How does your whiskey taste laced with my blood?

He turns, I flex my shoulders. It happens in an instant of pure adrenaline and the sickly thud makes me look. Brendan all beautifully bloodied and by my hands. I can't stop staring, all I can hear is my erratic heart beating and the dull echoes of that sound in my imagination. I'm still looking down as a smirk pulls at my lips no, a smile. Everything in its right place at last. But the starved shaking sets in and to my horror I want to reach out. Brendan? I have to get out. Warren's voice is in the background, I wonder when he got here. It was like I had tunnel vision, I was careless. I'm not like Brendan, I'm not all seeing and planning. Something pulls at the back of my brain telling me I am. Warren's voice finally cuts through my thoughts.  
>"Ste?"<br>It sounds concerned, disbelieving. Like Amy's disbelief, my catalyst for it all and I can't...I can't...  
>I bolt for the door but not before casting another glance over his still form. Brendan Brady what you do to me. Where's the content feeling I was sure I'd get, huh? Somehow manage to take that from me too? At least I managed to make you look as pathetic as I feel. No doubt you'll be back to your uncaring Irish man routine in record time. I can fix that for you, would you like that? I realise I'm sneering, standing outside the club in the light. Part of me wants to hide away in the flat but the rest of me? I want to turn back around and hide in those arms. All we ever do is hide.<p>

Thankfully my breathing has calmed down somewhat as I make it back home. My hands are still shaking as I try and hold the key steady. I think I have some cheap vodka somewhere and I start to rummage in the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink before freezing and gripping the counter for support. Sounds like something Brendan would do. I slam the door angrily and curl up in front of the TV. I used to do this when little after I'd had another encounter with Dad. The trick was to pretend you were watching the screen but in your head you'd be miles away. The feeling of white noise in my mind was eerily familiar, it was comforting even though it shouldn't have been. I could sit for hours focusing on anything but the pain. Only now my eyes watered and it didn't seem to work. I closed my eyes and saw all the Brendan's flash before me. Angry Brendan, lusty, smirking. All with an undertone violence. Then there was smiling Brendan, kissing, that expression he wore and softness in his eyes when he'd touch my face. I'm so tired and worn, I want to give in just a little. The way he'd push me to the wall and press up against me to close off the rest of the world. Was any of it real? I know in the morning I will be angry all over again but for now...I let the ghost of him lie next to me. I feel his familiar warmth encircling me and listen to his nonexistent whispers as though my life depended on it.

_It was real, all real…too real. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>

__Sorry for any spelling mistakes, it's not my strong point._ _

_I thought that episode was so powerful and the acting brilliant I just had to write something about it. I know it's short but don't know if it's worth continuing. I don't feel I've done Ste justice. Any opinions on how to improve? Eh, I'm sorry about the fluffy rubbish at the end xD Remember kids, review! ^-^_


	2. Diseased Ratboy

**To Conquer**

_**Diseased Ratboy:**_

Hospitals make me feel uneasy. Maybe it's the smell or the vacant looks they all wear. I visited my Gran once in one of these places. I found it odd 'cause I'd never seen her before then. When people talked at her funeral they'd mention her smile. I suppose they had memories of her in her days of grace. I only saw her once, hooked up to a machine with lips curved downwards in a frown. She looked at me as if I were a stranger. I was an outsider, an intruder invading her small world. Her fragile world. Now I'm walking the same pristine floors back to do the same thing. Only Brendan isn't frail, at least maybe not in the physical sense. Suddenly I realise I'm at unease not because of my surroundings but because of him. For once the balance of power has been tipped and I'm the strong one. Only the moment he steps out those automatic doors it'll shift back like nothing even happened.

"_He'll be after you big time now, you've just given him the perfect excuse"_

It scares the life out of me. So I have to do this, have to end it now so I can move on. Yeah, I know it's weak. I know he won't be able to lash out or smirk without cringing. It's the only way though, he can't run away when bound to a bed. I stop at the door as if some invisible force is barricading me. I can only watch through the small window as my stomach turns in guilt. Cheryl looks on and I'm overwhelmed with her helplessness. I did that. I can displace the blame on him all I want but it won't change the fact that there's just something inside me. I see these ill people all around me only I'm the one truly diseased. Amy thinks I'm over it, we sat down and had a long chat. I had to make her understand, see? That when I…when I hit her it was like I wasn't even seeing her. There was this monster inside me. Slowly over time I've felt it reawaken, it would stir each time Brendan belittled me, hurt me. He made me truly feel, that's the poison he spread in me. He made me feel like I was living life through a magnifying glass. The warmth he'd give me burst my world into flames. But I'm not ready to watch everyone I love burn to ash Brendan. You're really not worth that much.

I realise I've been drinking in his vulnerable image as if he were my life support. But I don't care. Ha! I don't care if you live or die Brady. I push through the door and usher Cheryl off with a strained smile. She knows something's up, what with her keen eye and my inability to mask emotion. I try to shake her from my thoughts and along with that the guilt and as soon as she leaves the room I become hard faced. I'm mad I know, he'll hunt me down and make me pay. I just want it all to stop.

"Do you know what happened?"

Was that me? My voice sounds displaced, I don't even know who I am anymore. All I know is that I want out. He may have once wrapped his invisible chains around me, pulled them so tight I could barely breathe. You like me like that don't you? All gasping for air whether it's from a climax you gave me or a punch to the ribs. Well I'm gonna find me a man who can treat me right.

"It was me"

I'm breaking free.

He stirs and I fix him with a stare. That glimmer of hope in his eyes fades...he thought I'd come for him. It's laughable really, I want to roar in uncontrolled laughter until I break down into sobs. But I won't because I don't care.

I don't, I don't.

I want to taunt him and toy with him. This is how Brendan must feel about me, nothing. Only then would he have been able to play with me the way he did. Just like this. My tender hand turns rigid as I grip his face. All that desperate whimpering does nothing to me, my insides remain as cold as ever.  
>"But you, you mean nothing to me now"<p>

Because I mean nothing to you.

_The club's neon lights make everything all the more eerie. I try and focus on my breathing as I watch Brendan's once mildly amused look harden and my eyes drop to focus on those lips. I'm on the verge of caving and making run for it because I can't take any more, can't take any more of him. I shouldn't have told him that I knew about the murder, why can I never keep my mouth shut? I force my eyes up to meet his as I try not to defocus and think about all the things those lips have done to me. It never ceased to amaze me how he could go from soft curiosity to full out devouring me in a heartbeat. I want to repeat that it's not my fault and he can't, won't drag me down with him. I struggle to make sense of it all as I'm overwhelmed. For a tiny moment I think that he does love me and I feel breathless all over again. But it's gone in an instant because this is just another part of his game and I'm all out of hands to play tonight. _

"_Love…you're not capable of love"_

_I'm starting to feel hysterical as the mixture of fear and pain becomes too much but I won't let him see it. I'll hold on to my last shreds of dignity because I'll need it when I leave him. God, I'm leaving him? Yeah, that's right. _

"_It's all sick"_

_Because you're meant to soothe it all away Brendan, you're meant to be my cure. _

I let go and turn away as if he's something rancid. I knew I wanted to say something like that, hell I've been repeating the same words in my head for days.

"I deserved it"

"Yeah, you had it coming"

I just never thought I'd say it, something dies inside as I realise the finality of it all. I pray that it's the disease in me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>

Look at how quick I update, therefore you may turn a blind eye to grammar/spelling. Bah! CORNY! Not happy with this as ever, one day I'll do a revamp on the whole thing. I wonder if I should try doing a Brendan POV for the next chapter? I dunno, could go horribly wrong. I really hope I haven't let you guys down, I've never had subscribers before! Thank you!

Hayley-Saxon-xx you are officially my favourite person and this chapter was written because of you 33 (even though it kinda sucks o.o, my bad)


	3. Dreaming Ratboy

**To Conquer**

_**Dreaming Ratboy:**_

I never thought I was gay. I mean, all those months sneaking about with Brendan you'd think I'd have twigged a little wouldn't you? It wasn't like I was looking guys over or girls for that matter. Come to think of it my eyes didn't stray far from him really. I was like Bren-sexual or summit ridiculous like that. There was Rae who was a lovely kid but there was always this sinking feeling. I felt guilty, paranoid because I would be with her yet simultaneously be floating in my own polar world. My world in him, through him, with him. It was just that though, a figment of my overactive imagination. But you don't want to hear about that guff, in fact I hereby swear not to mention the 'B' word. I've well and truly moved on, me.

Anyway, I was determined to get back into the monotony of things if only to get a little of my sanity back. Apparently the universe was having none of it.  
>Noah is a top bloke like. Sure he can come across a bit strong but then so can I. He's a force, is Noah. He exudes this confidence that I envy. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if I hover around him enough maybe some of it will stick. With him I do feel confident though and for that I'm grateful. Its like we're equals and for once I'm not staring up at the world looming around me. The first time he reached out for me sent a jolt of something through my system. He held onto my hand casually as we strode the street heading for his work. Though he kept glancing at me every so often from the corner of his eye, hand squeezing mine occasionally. Loose enough so I could let go, but I didn't. He's dead sensitive at times is Noah, keen for me to face the world but making sure I know he'll be there for support. I'm aware how fast we are going, so fast my head is spinning but maybe that's what I need. I've spent so long agonising that I've forgotten to just live.<p>

I place my cup down tracing the rim idly as I look out. I make a silent vow, things will be better and brighter. I just had to believe in it. Anyway, I'm meeting said knight in shining armor in a bit and you know what? I can't wait. Yeah, I know I sound dead girly and that but he pulls me out of these pensive moods. I may even drag him along to the park with the kids so I can show him my skills. He may have his belt in Jiu Jitsu or whatever but I'm a dab hand at the old climbing frame. I wonder how Mr. Phobia will cope with my tiny terrors. I laugh lightly to myself before turning back to attend to my rapidly cooling drink though my head whips up shortly after.

"Oh, hiya! You alright?"

Well I'm not the sharpest crayon in the tool box but even I can tell something's up with the forever present Pete. Must be a school thing, innit?

"No actually, I'm after Brendan"

My pleasant mood is immediately obliterated. I ignore the pitiful pangs at my stomach and settle for a scowl sure that my emotions are playing freely across my face. Just one day, why can't I go one day without something or someone reminding me of him. I immediately switch to the defensive and I can almost see Pete's inward rolling of the eyes. What's with him sniffing about anyway? Though if he is then it must be something serious-not that I give a monkeys. Anyway I thought they had some vendetta or something, thought he didn't care.

Like _you_ don't care?

I shift uncomfortably as I try and shut my inner voice up but before I know it I'm on my feet ready to literally chase Pete half a mile. I just want to see if he's really gone for good right, that's all this is.

"Has something happened to him?"

Because if he's done something stupid it'll all be my fault.

I stare after Pete's retreating form and realise my eyes are wide and body tense. Just like that he's back in my mind and a million questions buzz until I feel sick. I thought I'd gotten off this vicious carousel.

Brendan…Brendan….Brendan…

Where are you?

I stumble through the rest of the day in a dizzy manner. Even Noah's can do attitude isn't helping much. I can't do. Won't do. Now skip the bloody hell on! I groan and massage my temples deciding that what I need is air. Maybe I'm being unfair on the guy, I mean I finally recognize that I come with rather a lot of baggage. Though he doesn't seem to mind in fact I doubt he even notices. You know, he was pretty successful in distracting me quite a few times and God did he do a good job of distracting me last night. Now I know what it feels to be truly wanted, to share the height of intimacy and not be shunned immediately after. He's proud of me and I secretly kinda like being his trophy. Just a little. In those subdued moments all seems almost right. All is of course right…Hey wait is that-

"Pete!"

Treacherous feet, mouth and emotions. Apparently all thoughts of Noah have long gone.

"For Brendan to come and find me there must be a reason"

My heart swells with foolish hope and I'm almost glad the embarrassment hasn't found me yet. I need to say this, if I can just get the answers to put my mind at rest then I can move on. Easy as pressing play on the DVD featuring Ste's charade of a life. Pete's spinning some line and for some reason it reminds me of Brendan. I'm so fed up with this all, with people playing me for the fool.

'Cause only your Brendan's allowed to do that.

"I think he still cares about you, Ste"

Oh no, no, no! That's not what you're supposed to say at all! Someone's turned up the speed and I spin out of control. See Pete, what you're meant to say is…

"_Oh, sorry about earlier Ste. Brendan's safe back in Ireland, in fact he's living there and he's all merry without you. He did want to say sorry though, thinks you and Noah is a ridiculous idea because you need him. You need him and you can't have him, life's tough huh?"_

What? No…No I mean.

"…_thinks you and Noah is grand idea and you'll live happily ever after. The end."_

I'm on to you Pete, trying to guilt trip me. He's making up things that never existed like the lone wolf coming to knock on my door and confess his undying love for me. You don't get to pull my strings anymore, Brendan you don't. At least not on the surface.

"That psycho reckons I'll go back to him?"

No, I'll _run_ back to him Pete. You and I both know it.

I force my expression to even because you know what kids? It's time to pretend.

"He's more messed up than I thought"

I feign anger as I push through the door and quickly switch to a light hearted smile as I walk to Noah. Even he doesn't notice that inside I'm falling apart.

Days seem to drag on longer and I can't quite pin point why. I'm real lucky to have someone to pick me up when I withdraw into myself and my mood seems low. But with everyday the memories lingering about the club and my flat fade a little. Maybe there's the occasional reminder but nothing I can't handle.

One time I was at the back of the bar humming contented. A haze had seemed to settle over me since Bre...since he had disappeared. I was back to not mentioning his name see? It just makes things a little easier. Him not skulking about didn't make me relieved though, maybe a little numb instead. It would fade away though I was sure of it, I just had to keep myself going. I loaded the crate with practised ease thoughts flickering to my new boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. It was weird even in my head but in a pleasant warm way. All the things he'd never be able to give me I was experiencing. A small smile tugged at my lips as I balanced the crate and tugged at the door. Then sudden confusion as the door wouldn't budge, then the familiar creeping of panic. Somewhere at the back of my mind I knew I was just being silly. I'd turned back around to stare at the cold room I was trapped in and my throat tightened. It was like all the sensations I'd ever experienced in this room overloaded my senses. Faint traces of seductive whispers clinging to the dank walls. Pain rekindling and burning a path through my stomach and ribs. And all the self loathing that came with it. He was there, I swear lurking in the shadows watching me in the light.  
>But that was nothing compared to the despair that consumed me as I pressed up with my back against the door. This was all so irrational yet still the silence screamed. When had the room got so big and...empty? It was like there was a raw tenderness as though someone had brutally ripped and clawed something from within me. I just needed those shadows to speak to me.<br>Am I going insane?  
>"Stephen."<br>And suddenly the thudding of my heart filled my ears and the blood rushed through my veins. There was no mistaking that ragged voice. I barely registered my fingers slipping. I wanted to walk into the welcoming darkness and lose myself forever. The sharp shattering caused me to freeze though, had me rapidly blinking and realising the calling had been going on for quite some time.  
>"Ste? Stephen? What was...? The door is jammed!"<br>Cheryl's shrill voice filled the air and I could do nothing but stare at the leaking liquid and shattered glass, shivering.

I was a walking zombie for the rest of that day but soon rejoined the rest of humanity with its uphill struggle. I chose not to linger on that for too long as it would do me no good. Besides, the only happy pill I need are my kids. An hour curled up with them watching pretty neat cartoons usually does the trick. I'm not worried one bit, this is all just a phase that will pass. In fact I have everything I could have wanted. Right? I have a partner now to grab hold of me and hoist me up out of these silly stupors. Things can only get worse before they get better. That's what I tell myself when I realise the occurrence of that dead hollow feeling is becoming more frequent. The loneliness more evident no matter how many people I surround myself with.

I'm losing myself. It's like the more I grab for the remainders of my life the more it slips through my fingers. Thin and frail, it whispers away like smoke every time I reach out. I'm pretending he did this, that all I'm left with is the cinders and ash that he made, but he didn't. I pretend that I've bounced back, act glad he's gone away. After all, I drove him away. How can I be frustrated with him for playing games when that's all I seem able to do nowadays? I can't admit that I still…just like he can't admit that we were something more. Let's all put up masks until we forget what's real. No one will know.

I press my face into a strong hard chest to hide. As if on cue Noah wraps his arms around me protectively and holds me close. I'm a liar, I'm a cheat. Cheryl's shocked expression haunts me because she's hurting and that was all me. I threw him in hospital and spat angry words in his face and made him run. I let all his worst secrets spill from my mouth and screwed up his meticulous life. I even have the nerve to be in the arms of another man thinking of him. I don't deserve anyone and yet still I cling to Noah as he watches the TV oblivious and I try to hide from myself. I breathe in his scent to try and calm myself down and pull myself away so our eyes connect. Waiting for something…  
>But Noah is no Brendan.<br>When Noah took my hand it was a bolt of nerves but Brendan...he made me feel electric. He has a force no one can measure to. Like you're trapped in the middle of a whirlwind and though there's destruction it's thrilling. Like he's a tidal wave crashing down on you, leaving you pleasantly stinging as you fight for breath. I had never felt so alive. I want so desperately to feel that way again and I take a breath before getting up and pulling him along with me to the bed. I close my eyes and think of stormy winds and ferocious fire.

But Brendan is a fantasy.

So I fantasize.

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>

This ones a bit longer :) Bah! I'm going insane without the Bree couple on me ol' TV, will probably have to wait for more scenes until I write more which totally sucks. That or I will Brendan POV but there won't be much save the hospital bit because I have no idea where he ran off O.o

Before you ask, yes the crayons in the tool box was deliberate gotta love Ste :P

Hope you liked! Review, I give cookie?


	4. Bleeding Ratboy

**To Conquer**

**! Fri 22nd April spoiler alert !  
><strong>

_**Bleeding Ratboy:**_

_"I missed you"  
>"Yeah?"<br>Ste weakens slightly beneath the heavy loaded gaze but otherwise says nothing. He can't believe he let himself say something so vulnerable like that. He feels as though he's wearing a target. Everything about Brendan reminds him of a pointed gun. Sharp, vicious and cold like a bullet through your brain. But then the violent gushing of heat as frayed nerves dull with the sensation. Then heaven.  
>He exhales and the scene seems to shimmer. He's vaguely aware of how unreal this seems. The way that Brendan is almost pulsing. An aura in the form of white light consuming the both of them. Ste's drawn like a moth to a flame. Everything else is black though, nonexistent. Whatever background objects there may have been have dissolved into the darkness.<br>"Yeah"  
>Ste's voice seems microscopic in comparison to the others low rasp. Afraid to ruin the fragility of everything.<br>"Well then..."  
>Something smug glitters through the man's eyes. An amused twitch of the lip, Ste catches it. Of course he does, he's been staring. There's a desperate ache raking his small form and it escalates. So close. The whimper escapes his lips before he can stop it.<br>"Bren..."  
>And before he knows it he's slammed against a wall succumbing to the breath taking catastrophe that is Brendan Brady.<br>The kiss is unrelenting if it can even be called a kiss. Teeth grate and breathing labours. Ste feels oddly akin to a scarce morsel and Brendan is nothing short of ravenous. Not after long it's clear the man has an appetite. He pulls back despite the obvious mounting frustration. It's still not enough. They share a brief moment of eye contact and they both simultaneously freeze. Ste captures that moment as if it were gold dust. Lust slowly etches it way back onto Brendan's face. There's no time for messing about when that look is worn. So Ste simply watches perplexed though still pleasantly buzzing as the elder lowers. Only he could make kneeling look dignified as ever.  
>"My, my Stephen. A welcome back present just for me?"<br>_  
>A sharp beeping penetrates my mind and I groan groggily as I roll over.<br>"Mmm, Brend-"  
>I cut myself off as my entire body tenses and I look on wide eyed at the ceiling. God I didn't just...did I just? Oh God! I wince as I regain all of my senses and my mind whirls. Self disgust hits me and I bury my face in the pillow. Only that's the least of my worries. I note with disdain that my body feels clammy and the sheets stick slightly. Not only that but a glance beneath the sheets confirm my worst fear. Time for a shower, a very, very cold shower. Within minutes I'm under the steady ice cold jet still whining feebly to myself. This really is pathetic. I am pathetic. I realise I'm starting to shiver but refuse to get out. In a warped way I want to punish myself. I start to feel how I do on the outside, a burning coldness stokes my soul. I want it to take over me completely. The brief moment of anger at him, at myself has gone. The faint tendrils of amusing embarrassment have faded. Now it's just me. My conscience speaks up and it sounds eerily like my stepfather. Telling me I'm a mess, that I deserve to be alone.<p>

_He ran from you_  
>"No..."<br>I say it to be strong, to shut that voice up. It comes out choked instead but I tell myself I've got something caught in my throat. Yeah, something caught in my throat.  
>The voice laughs. I feel hollow.<br>I suck in a ragged breath "...please"  
>But there's no response because there's no one here to hear me. I shudder as I let hot silent droplets trail down my cheeks.<p>

I laugh as Noah makes an off handed remark about a passerby. Maybe I laughed a little too enthusiastically as he shoots me a questioning look. I just smile and grab his hand entwining our fingers.  
>"You've got a nice smile"<br>"Oh, that how you chat up all your men ay?"  
>I tease sticking my tongue out and get rewarded with a roll of the eyes.<br>"I'm just saying..."  
>Noah looks oddly pensive and it disturbs me somewhat. It's not like him, usually he's all upfront and in your face. Now it's my turn to look puzzled but I don't linger on it for too long though. My thoughts stray to this morning and I have to work at concealing a heavy sigh. I can be such a drama queen sometimes. I attempt to laugh it all away but fail miserably. I'm finding that today I have to take more deep breaths to calm myself down than usual. It's like I suddenly get this feeling of dread and fear leaving me weak and shaky. But other than that I'm fine.<br>I'm fine.

Noah's talking and I have to concentrate on tuning in. He's talking about me being distant and inwardly I scoff. I've been galaxies away mate. But I feel bad, this is my problem not his. Anyone half decent would apologise with head hung in shame and call it a day. Noah doesn't deserve to be dragged into my mess. I don't though because I'm horribly selfish. I know I'll hit rock bottom if he leaves because all that loneliness will finally catch up on me. All my fears will be confirmed. That I'm not worth the fight after all. Brendan's absence only confirms that, I catch myself looking around me as if he'd magically just be there.

He isn't.

Noah's still talking and I have to mask the flicker of pain I feel at him mentioning 'this guy'. I know I'm looking defensive, even a little outraged but really I'm sulking. He's not just some 'guy' and a frown colours my features as I realise this defeats the entire point. I'm supposed to be making him insignificant, a temporary blip in my past.

"Part of my past I want to forget, that's all…"

I strain a smile after all he's trying his best here. Anyone else would have given up on me by now, it's not like I'm anything special. Yet here he is.

"Look let's go out tonight"

I give a little nod starting to believe that maybe life's not all doom and gloom.  
>My small smile softens into something more genuine as he moves in to kiss me chastely on the lips before sauntering to work. I close my eyes and imagine someone else. Yeah, I'm going straight to hell…<p>

My mind wanders to my wardrobe for a moment as I try and think of what I can pull together that will look half decent. See? You can't say I'm not trying hard cause I am. Lord knows I'll do anything to keep my mind off...well you know. Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised and have a great time. That or just get wasted, but that's plan B. Anyway, it's not like the world stops turning just because Brendan Bra-  
>My world abruptly comes to a halt. I stand in shock for a moment distantly glad my mouth is shut as I'm sure it would've otherwise hung gaping and I'd look like even more of a nit. Not that I care about what he thinks of me or what he thinks I look like or…or... I quickly whip my head around in the vague hopes that Noah's still there so I can, I dunno, hide behind him? I'm not a wimpy kid or anything, I'm man enough to stand up for myself. Speaking of manly…oh shut up Ste!<br>"Maybe it's just me but I often find public displays of affection rather…icky"

Oh so that's why you refrained from touching me, cause it was 'icky'? My anger is back but not before I realise to my horror that my lip twitches because of his use of the word. That and…fuck…his throaty voice. I mentally slap myself out of it, this guy's a murderer and you hate him, remember?  
>Thankfully my game face slips on and I regard his smug controlled expression. Admittedly it's not as perfected as Brendan's and I only manage to look pissed off but still, better than him seeing the conflict in my eyes. Behind anger I find I can cover almost anything and my jaw sets with disdain at how shivery his close proximity is making me. Maybe this is what it's like to be Brendan. Not allowing yourself to feel what every fiber of your being is screaming to feel, suffocating it all with rage in the hopes that it'll rot away.<p>

It won't go away, I'm trying so hard Bren but it just won't...I'd rather die than let him see what he does to me though. My defiance leads me to spit a question uncaring and I just about keep myself from looking to the sky for strength when he spews out that charm again. Whatever, full of shit as per usual. I decide to fix him with a glare.

"Did ya miss me?"

I falter, eyes wide as the dream assaults my senses and the sound of my own voice fills my mind, pleadingly hopeful. Bleeding.

"_I missed you"_

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><p><strong>AN <strong>Might have to change this as it's based on the tiny snippet in the spoiler (Fri 22nd) but I had to put this out there to get us through the Stedan drought xD I think I read a Stedan fic with someone starting a chapter with a dream so sorry if you think I copied but it is totally different. I like adding symbolism and links :) R&R pweease!


	5. Chapter 5 Preview

Chapter 5 Preview

_**Well we all know what a bugger Bren is to get right so I'm posting a snippet to see what people think. Please review with advice! I don't feel like I've done him justice at all. Also I shall never work with a spoiler again, though the previous chapter still kinda works. Thanks to anyone who'd still bothering to read this fic, means a lot. Desperately need feedback guys!**_

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><p><em><strong>Wolfman:<strong>_

I'm in amidst a game here watching Stephen with a little more concentration than necessary. This is all part of my manipulation though and of course I started it. To know I still have a hold over him is somewhat reassuring. His unease isn't amusing even though I seem to be projecting that it is. The worn look he wears pulls at something in me.  
>It's not as though I'm going to acknowledge it this time round though is it?<br>I write it off as just another annoyance. Like when he yaps on at me about senseless rubbish even after heeding one of my signature warning looks. Cheeky git that he is. Said sod is frowning trying not to pour champagne down my new suit which is...interesting. Usually his honed skills mean he could work blindfolded and still do a better job than McQueen. Hmm, blindfolded Stephen...  
>"A word, in private"<br>I catch boyish curiosity flit across Stephen's face. Seriously kid? As if he hasn't done enough meddling in my business to figure at least feigning nonchalance would be wise. Yet that naivety is part of the...uh, attraction…I guess.  
>"Yep."<br>I've moved to a corner with Foxy and I'm already bored. There's a certain barman that needs some unnerving after all. I was expecting this anyway and it takes a bit of Brady self control not to roll my eyes. Guy sure likes to dig up the past, huh? Damn shame he's not partial to the literal sort, then Dan the man wouldn't have made that special appearance. I know he's trying to get at me. Taking a few swings so I lose my footing before going for a meaty right hook. Piece of shit that he is. I'm a little sick maybe, but taking someone's life doesn't exactly lie well with me. I'm aware that my brain closes off all rationale when I think about it. The fact that I know it was wrong isn't enough because the guilt's still there. In the form of sleepless nights or vivid memory recalls. Dreams and reality blur sometimes but one thing remains the same. As faces skew and objects become blunter and colours brighter. "Stephen" Danny's smirk as my eyes yellow and body contorts. I bare my teeth.

But the true nightmares? They're of Stephan's face, the look of pure disgust he throws at me the murderous villain. I howl.

My usual bravado is shaken off by Warren and I'm a little annoyed. I mean after all the energy I'm putting into my little speech Foxy, least you can do is give us a clap. No?  
>"Either I get my money back"<br>Or...?  
>"Or I hurt something close to ya"<br>I'm pretty sure there is a patent on those words, you'd better cough up. Oh wait, I have all your money.  
>Ha.<br>I humour him by glancing over at Cheryl with a bland expression on my face. Then he has the nerve to lean in.  
>"Closer"<br>It starts with a spasm. There's that pull again and I need to close my eyes to will it away but won't. Never show weakness. The anger is somewhere building and gripping it's animalistic claws around my throat. I'm glad, I can deal with this. But then a flicker as the video reel starts up showing me what I can never escape. Hurt pooling in innocent wide, wide eyes. See, I've got a whole catalogue of your pain but you know what Stephen, know what the funny thing is? I'm the cause behind every fucking entry.  
>But that's alright...everything...everything's alright. On the outside still as iced over as ever. Never show w-weakness...<br>I force my eyes away from the bar and try to focus on nothingness. Instead my thoughts take up an instantly darker hue.  
>Foxy, Foxy didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with wolves?<p> 


	6. Wolfman

**To Conquer**

_**Wolfman:**_

I'm in full throw here watching Stephen with a little more concentration than necessary. This is all part of my manipulation though. To know I still have a hold over him is somewhat reassuring. His unease isn't amusing even though I seem to be projecting that it is. The worn look he wears pulls at something in me.  
>It's not as though I'm going to acknowledge it this time round though is it?<br>I write it off as just another annoyance. Like when he yaps on at me about senseless rubbish even after heeding one of my signature warning looks. Cheeky git that he is. Said sod is frowning trying not to pour champagne down my new suit which is...interesting. Usually his honed skills mean he could work blindfolded and still do a better job than McQueen. Hmm, blindfolded Stephen...  
>"A word, in private"<br>I catch boyish curiosity flit across Stephen's face. Seriously kid? As if he hasn't done enough meddling in my business to at least feign nonchalance. Yet that naivety is part of the...uh, attraction I guess.  
>"Yep."<br>I've moved to a corner with Foxy and I'm already bored. There's a certain barman that needs some unnerving after all. I was expecting this anyway and it takes a bit of Brady self control not to roll my eyes. Guy sure likes to dig up the past, huh? Damn shame he's not partial to the literal sort, then Dan the man wouldn't have made that special appearance. I know he's trying to get at me. Taking a few swings so I lose my footing before going for a meaty right hook. Piece of shit that he is. I'm a little sick maybe, but taking someone's life doesn't exactly lie well with me. I'm aware that my brain closes off all rationale when I think about it. The fact that I know it was wrong isn't enough because the guilt's still there. In the form of sleepless nights or vivid memory recalls. Dreams and reality blur sometimes but one thing remains the same. As faces skew and objects become blunter and colours brighter. "Stephen" Danny's smirk as my eyes yellow and body contorts. I bare my teeth. But the true nightmares? They're of Stephan's face, the look of pure disgust he throws at me the murderous villain. I howl.

My usual bravado is shaken off by Warren and I'm a little annoyed. I mean after all the energy I'm putting into my little speech Foxy, least you can do is give us a clap. No?  
>"Either I get my money back"<br>Or...?  
>"Or I hurt something close to ya"<br>I'm pretty sure there is a patent on those words, you'd better cough up. Oh wait, I have all your money.  
>Ha.<br>I humour him by glancing over at Cheryl with a bland expression on my face. Then he has the nerve to lean in.  
>"Closer"<br>It starts with a spasm. There's that pull again and I need to close my eyes to will it away but won't. Never show weakness. The anger is somewhere building and gripping it's animalistic claws around my throat. I'm glad, I can deal with this. But then a flicker as the video reel starts up showing me what I can never escape. Hurt pooling in innocent blue wide, wide eyes. See, I've got a whole catalogue of your pain but you know what Stephen, know what the funny thing is? I'm the cause behind every fucking entry.  
>But that's alright. On the outside still as iced over as ever. Everything twitching, itching and no matter how much I want to stop this circus act I can't. The lion's out the cage. Never show w-weakness...<br>I force my eyes away from the bar and try to focus on nothingness and my quickening palpitations. Instantly my thoughts take up a darker hue.  
>Foxy, Foxy didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with wolves?<p>

This talking about closets distracts me for a moment. Everyone seems obsessed with that metaphor. I almost let out a bark of a laugh; I'm a fine one to talk about obsessions after all. I want to make a snide remark but stop short as I realise Warren will make true on both threats. Yet he knows what I'm capable of, we both know what each of us is capable of. This annoyance helps dull the simmering anger for a moment. Dumping the body of a body dumper will probably stain my suit after all. Something clicks in my incessantly working brain as I turn back to the bar. I only seem to catch a break from the millisecond thoughts when with him. I look at him thoughtless as he is, clueless.  
>You still have no idea just what I'd do for you, ey Stephen?<br>Fuck.  
>"Okay"<br>The decision's made, he's suffered enough.  
>I wonder why I'm not disgusted at what I'm about to do. Maybe it's because it's all part of the game plan like. Or maybe because some perverse part of me is getting off on this.<p>

Damaged as I am.  
>Everything seems diluted and path ahead lengthened. It goes against all that's been reinforced in me throughout my life and all the catcalls start to flare from my distant memories.<br>_"Come to 'ave a look, ah? Ya fuckin' fag!"_  
>I could turn away right now, easily. Not easily, something shook me the day all my secrets were laid bare. Despite it all I was even going to tell him that I...but I'm unshakeable. Made of cold hard steel, impenetrable. Even so I won't look at him.<br>"Ladies and gentleman"  
>People are drawing away like I'm a force of repulsion.<br>_"How's about we teach him what we do ta little fairies 'round 'ere?"_  
>But no one's moved a step.<br>"May I have your attention please"  
><em>"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, what?..."<em>  
>Its like I'm talking to the thick fog in front of me. I sense them but can't see, don't need to. I already know what'll be painted across their judgmental faces. I just wish it would all-<br>_"Aww, hear that boys the princess wants us to stop!"_  
>For once I admit to feeling unsteady so I simply stare at him. Shameful at the knowledge that I need to.<br>"Stephen"  
>All I see.<br>I realise then that all the while I've been back I haven't taken time to fully look at him. I mean really look at him. Always sidetracked with thoughts of the money, shares in the club and now...  
><em>"Aint she <em>_**precious**__?"_  
>I wince and forcefully remind myself that this is nothing. He's another tool that I'll toss to the side the moment he's served his use. I recognise the confusion in his eyes, the fear. Yet all seems overshadowed by the intensity of something else. Something else I refuse to acknowledge. Our lips' colliding is far too familiar and I distantly want to smirk at how his body betrays him. Thought you'd moved on <em>Ste<em>. But then my minds flooded with images of the day I left. Standing outside his flat, staring in from the outside. The jealousy spiking viciously in my chest. I'd like to think I was gonna deck him but in truth the other man's a blur. All I see is hands violating what's mine and the look he wears. The expression he's only ever worn for me, _my_ smile. My tight hold on him is slipping. The control. Christ. He's right under my skin. I can almost hear his moans, calling out another man's name. Giving all of what was once mine. Losing control. I never, never lose...  
>So I left.<br>I pull back forcefully just as Stephen starts to respond. It's only a statement anyway. Consider yourself used goods, that's me done.  
>"I'm done with him, do what you want"<br>Just don't fucking touch him. That's my job, mine alone.  
><em>"Yeah, you nasty filthy queer"<em>  
>Foxy's face is a picture, bloody hilarious. Not so hilarious. See, it's not losing when you force someone away. I beat the system, found a loophole in life. Lone wolf, that's me...ha.<p>

"_I'm Brendan Brady and don't yer forget it"_

"Why are you laughing?"  
>Wait is that Stephan's...<em>my<em> smile?  
>"...Means we can be together"<br>Yeah, I think it is. I have to shake myself out of my revere 'cause while I've all been rosy eyed he's been spouting yet another reel of his shit again. C'mon kid, lemme just enjoy this 'us' for a little bit. Even if it's just pretend.  
>"If everybody knows about you now, then that means we can be together dunnit?"<br>"Hmm...yah think so?"  
>I drawl, I have to keep distant. I need to start rebuilding my concrete wall again. Only it's futile, see our Stephen's a dab hand at jumping fences. His small nod, eyes glittering as he frantically tries to keep up with me. I can almost see the strain and my smirk's on the verge of softening into a smile, he's too damn distracting. Pretty little thing, aintcha Stephen?<br>"I was meant to kiss ya back, weren't I?"  
>What are you saying...God. Want me to beat the hope from you again kid? Masochist.<br>"Everything's changed now"  
>Sadist.<br>Just stop talking, shut yer mouth there's a good lad. Keep quiet or I'll...I'll...

Kiss you.  
>Taste you.<br>Don't make me  
>Do bad, bad things to you.<p>

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><p><strong>[AN]<strong> I figured I'd get this out during the Bree slump :) I dunno, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied with a Brendan POV, it's so damn hard. Plus I had to wait this long because all the speculation totally confused the beating bit for me. I wanted to convey some of Brendan's demons and make people a little more sympathetic to the way he later treats Ste. Of course abuse shouldn't be tolerated nor accepted at any level but I still wanted to establish a connection with Brendan. A very difficult character indeed. I realise now Stephan sounds a little girly in earlier chapters but meh, all down to interpretation I guess. Review please and I will love you forever and a day :D I really am doing this to improve my writing (believe it or not O.o), Lord knows if it's actually working so feedback would be really appreciated. Cheers!


	7. Howl

**To Conquer**

_**Howl**_

There's a new kid on the block chop, chop

Eyes a big an' glassy

Lips turned down, permanent frown

Tryin' to look right past me.

Reminds me of someone.

"Grand theft auto"

"Oh yeah?"

"Stabbed the fucker, didn't I?"

He's nothing like him. I sit and stare at the decades of cracks, scratches at the wall. Desperation seems poignant in this place, even embedded in the walls. And that scrape of whisper thin metal against concrete, caging the beast with the oblivious. His words don't drone but buzz on an' on. Sweet Jesus, give us another beating instead.

"I'm Tyler, what's your name?"

He's got a pretty face, blue bright eyes untarnished by life. His jaw's sharp, grabbable. For a moment I wonder if I can play it out, relive it. In this cardboard box, make a man out of this paper thin boy. Unleash the beast. Kiss, punch, fuck, bite. Until that spark burns out. All the while remembering someone else's screams.

"Hyde."

I suppose these solid hollow walls are meant to make a man think. Reflection, obsession praying on the magnitude of vulnerabilities we all seek to hide. And for me the word that bled through the walls was a simple one. Rolling to coat my floor in a sticky thick sheet. Oozing from the cracks and filling the void of silence with tell tale drips, echoing. Tempting my strife, my madness.

Revenge.

Acrid but sweet, jabbing but fluid through your veins. If there's one thing a man can cling to for survival it's that. Not love. And the only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.

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><p><strong>[AN]<strong> More abstract this time, experimenting.

...I wonder if I still have readers.

The shortness was deliberate.


End file.
